


Never Again

by Mayumi_chan



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: (not a lot but it's there), Acrophobia, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anger, Angry Jean, Angst, Anxiety, Bad Parenting, Character Death, Cheesy, Claustrophobia, Depression, Drug Use, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eren Being Blunt, Eren Yeager Has Heterochromia Iridum, F/F, F/M, Family Issues, Fighting, French Jean Kirstein, German Eren Yeager, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, I Hope You Give This a Chance!, I'm Bad At Summaries, I'm Bad At Titles, I'm Reallyyy Bad At Summaries, Insecurity, Insomnia, M/M, Making Out, POV Jean Kirstein, Panic Attacks, Please Don't Kill Me, Regret, Romance, Self-Blame, Self-Hatred, Slow Build, Social Anxiety, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Trust Issues, Turkish Eren Yeager, bad memories, i suck at summaries, once again, probably a bit OOC
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-22
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-04-27 04:59:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5034694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayumi_chan/pseuds/Mayumi_chan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Marco’s death my depression only got worse. Things at home were still in deep shit, too. So now I’m here, on a bridge by a road where nobody passes through, about to end my life. It’s kind of scary but I’ve realized there is literally nothing for me to live for. I’ve racked my brain for so long trying to think of something, <em>anything</em> that might prevent me from killing myself. But since that seemed to have been a useless effort, I decide it's about time. Nobody will miss me, so there was nothing holding me back. </p><p>I wasn't expecting to be interrupted by a loudmouthed brunette driving a Ford Mustang.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. End It All

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeahhhh, I should REALLY finish at least one of my fics, but I'm too eager for that! Haha! :'D *sobs profusely*
> 
> Anyways! Thanks for clicking! :D I'm going to try and make this as sad as I possibly can so I hope you enjoy that! Please, please, PLEASE do NOT read this if anything in the tags is triggering or hard for you to read about. There is a chance future self harm will be included, but it's unlikely which is why I didn't tag it. So yeah! Hope you enjoy! (((:>
> 
> Comments, Kudos, and Subscriptions are always appreciated!!! <3
> 
> PS - I think I proofread this pretty well but please let me know if you see any obvious mistakes I missed!!! (:> Thank you!!! x3

After Marco’s death my depression only got worse. Things at home were still in deep shit. In fact, my parents were planning to divorce soon. Not that I wasn’t expecting it. I’ve always known they didn’t love each other. They seemed to _love_ making that clear, always yelling and fighting. They didn’t even share a room. If anything, I’m surprised they’ve even made it this long.

I mean, even as a kid I could tell my parents weren’t like the other kids’. The other kids would always talk about how their parents took them out to eat, or brought them to Disney Land over spring break, or told them bed time stories. And on their birthday they’d get a party. My parents forgot about my birthday. When I reminded them my dad said,

“Oh, is that so?” Before going back to his work. My mom didn’t even bother to respond, she just waved me away. After that I never brought up the occasion again. Oh, that was in kindergarten, by the way. I’m 18 going on 19 and almost in college, now. And they still can’t remember my birthday. Or, it’s more like they choose to ignore it even if they do remember.

But while I’ve accepted it, it’s still kind of hard to see other people with their parents. Getting the love that I’ve always longed for.

Or, used to long for. I don’t really care anymore. Honestly, the only reason they got married was because I was born. If they didn’t, my mom’s dad would have killed my dad. Like I stated earlier, I’m just surprised they didn’t divorce sooner.

I’ve never really had any friends before. I mean, I’ve had friends, but nobody who really cared about me, nor I them. Just people I talked to in school. Once I got out of elementary, though, I was more of an outcast. Nobody wanted to talk to the weird, awkward, unsociable French kid who looked like he wanted to kill everyone in the room. I would have avoided me, too, honestly.

But then in seventh grade we got a transfer student, from a school called Trost. He was instantly liked. He had a kind smile, a cute undercut and freckles. He was like an angel. Right off the bat he had plenty of friends. I didn’t bother. A guy like that would never want to talk to a loner like me. So I continued to each lunch by myself, to work by myself in group projects, like the ids flocked to Marco. The girls were all crushing on him, calling him the ‘perfect guy.’ And fuck were they right. I was dying inside because I had a major crush on the dude. I’m pretty sure he’s what made me realize I was gay. Sure, I had an inkling of an idea I preferred men, but when I saw him my heart was beating out of my chest.

So one day I was sitting at lunch by myself, like usual, when Marco sits in front of me.

“Hi,” he had said with a smile. I stopped mid-chew and stared at him, confused. Then I looked to my right, then my left. Seeing nobody within range of speaking, I looked back to him.

“… Me?” I had asked. He laughed and nodded.

“I don’t know if you caught my name since we never talk, but I’m Marco Bodt,” he extended his hand. I hesitantly reached out and took it.

“Jean Kirschtein,” I had mumbled. “So, um, did you need anything, or…?”

“Am I disturbing you?” Marco asked, looking a bit disappointed. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have just invited myself to sit with—”

“N-no, that’s not it!” I had said quickly. “I just, um, most people don’t… talk… to me… Uh, unless they need something like homework.”

“Oh,” Marco said. We were silent for a moment before he spoke up again. “You’re always alone so I just kind of wanted to try talking to you. Everyone said not to but I don’t think you seem very harmful.”

“Well, you’re the first,” I said. Then we stared at each other again before laughing. Then Marco asked about me, and I told him there wasn’t much to know before inquiring about himself.

After that Marco sat with me every day. He partnered up with me for projects and in gym class boy, had I fallen hard for him. I couldn’t believe that a guy like him wanted to be my friend. But I was still 100% sure he was straight. I didn’t come out to him until the end of our eight grade year. He said he didn’t mind, and then came out to me. Well fuck, did that mean I actually had a chance?

For the time being we were just gay friends. I tried confessing to him a number of times but it wasn’t until the middle of our sophomore year that I actually did it. It didn’t go near as bad as I thought it would.

“Marco,” I said seriously. He looked up from his book and smiled at me. We had been in his room, just hanging out on his bed. His parents were out so there was no way they’d hear me so I decided it was then or never.

“Yes, Jean?”

“I…” I paused before taking a deep breath and looking him straight in the eyes. “I like you. And I mean, _like_ you. Like I want to hug you and kiss you every fucking time we hang out—you have no idea how much I have to hold myself back from hugging you to death. Fuck, dammit… I know it’s weird since we’re best friends but I just really needed to let you know how I—”

“Jean,” Marco said and I had averted my eyes. “Calm down and look at me.” I took another deep breath and looked at him. His entire face had been red. Was he flustered? “I-I… like you, too. A lot. I have for a long time.”

“Wha… fuckin’ hell, Marco—for how long?” I asked, sitting up straight. He blushed harder.

“Seventh grade,” he mumbles. “Remember that day I sat with you? I always saw you by yourself. Everyone said you were scary and angry but you just looked lonely and, um… cute, to me.”

I just gaped at him and he hid his face behind his hands but I grabbed his wrists and pulled them off, wanting to see him.

“Fuck, Marco… If one of us had just _said_ something…!” He laughed a bit. Then we just both started laughing and I pulled him into a hug. A few moments later I finally spoke up again. “So… To formally ask… Marco, will you go out with me.” He scoffs at my cheesiness but he was laughing.

“Of course,” he had said and we just looked at each other until I leaned in and kissed him. And he kissed back and if that wasn’t the happiest moment of my pathetic life then fuck me because I cannot think of a single moment before that where I had been even remotely close to happy, let alone my heart beating out of my chest happy.

So we started dating. The rest of sophomore year, throughout junior year, and then our senior year. We were planning to move in together after graduation. We weren’t going to the same colleges, but they weren’t far from each other so an apartment nearby would have be perfect for us. Plus we would have still gotten to see each other every day. It was going to be great. For once in my life I felt… complete. Like my parents couldn’t get to me anymore. Everything was actually going well for me for once.

It was all perfect until the accident.

~    ~    ~    ~

It was a couple weeks before graduation and Marco and I had been walking downtown, looking for outfits to wear for the occasion. Marco had insisted on me coming to his house for a graduation party. I knew his parents but none of his other family members. I was worried about making a bad first impression but Marco assured me it’d be fine. Plus, spending a night there rather than with my parents would be _heaven_. They probably wouldn’t even bother showing up to the graduation ceremony.

So we were crossing the street when the light changed to walk, but then this car comes out of nowhere, zooming in our direction and blaring its horn loudly. I reacted immediately, turning to get out of the way but Marco seemed frozen. I grabbed for his wrist but stumbled and missed. He looked at me with wide eyes as I fall, the car hitting him hard. Marco flies backwards and I stare horrified at his body.

“Marco!” I screamed. Marco was laying on the floor. The guy who hit him was hurrying out of his car. I crawl over to Marco, bringing his head into my lap. His face and body was bleeding all down his left side, blood already soaking his shirt. His leg looked broken but I didn’t pay attention to it.

“I-I’m sorry!” the man says, looking utterly petrified. “I couldn’t—M-my breaks, they wouldn’t—!”

“Shut up!” I yelled at him, trying to hold back the tears threatening to flood out. “Call… an ambulance. _Now_.” The man swallowed thickly, nodding as he fumbled with his pocket, taking out his phone and calling 911.

“Marco, can you hear me?” I asked. He lolled his head to the side, looking up at me with eyes that looked confused. So confused. His hazel eyes were teary, though I doubt he even noticed.

“Hurts…” he mumbles.

“I know, Marco, I know,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm for him. “Help will be here soon, just calm down and save your breath.”

“Am I dying?” he asked softly, voice hoarse.

“No! No, Marco, you’re going to live,” I said frantically, holding his hand tightly. “Okay? Stop talking, you’re going to be okay.”

Then he smiled at me. He fucking _smiled_. Despite being in so much pain he gave me one of his beautiful, perfect, kind smiles. And I felt my heart throb. It was so painful. I swear I felt my heart shattering in my chest. I swear it.

“Jean, thank you,” Marco said softly, voice breathy. “I don’t know if I’m gonna make it, Jean, but I really do love you. I always have… You’re… my entire world. You’ve made me happier than ever before. Thank you so much.”

No. No, no, no,  _no_! That was _my_ line! I couldn’t just let Marco give up!

“Marco, _stop_ ,” I said, brushing some hair out of his eyes. “You’re going to get through this, okay? We’re going to move in together and you’ll finally be able to go to Rosemary University. We’re gonna do it, okay? You can’t give up on me now, Marco! Dammit! Please don’t close your eyes, baby, _please_. You need to stay awake until the paramedics come. Okay? They’ll be here soon.”

“But I’m so _tired_ , Jean…” Marco whined softly, eyes opening and closing, like trying not to fade out of consciousness. Trying so hard I held his head up more, trying to keep him in a position that might make it harder to… ‘sleep.’

“Marco, please, I love you so fucking much,” I cried out. I could feel the tears streaming down my face but I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything but the fact that Marco needed to _live_. Then he looked at me with that fucking smile again, reaching up and gently wiping some of my tears with his thumb. “Please, Marco, stay with me! They’ll be here soon, I promise! They’ll fix you right up. Marco? _Marco_! Babe, please don’t leave me! You gotta stay with me, okay? Okay?”

Marco’s eyes were closed. His hand started to slip from my cheek but I hold it there, sobbing.

The paramedics didn’t come until almost ten minutes later, and despite how I still talked to Marco throughout those ten minutes, begging him to stay with me, trying to reassure him that everything would be alright—I knew in my heart that he was gone. The moment he closed his eyes I knew it. The moment his warm, bloody hand began to slip from my face, I knew that he wasn’t going to be okay because he was gone. The paramedics told me that he was already dead when they got to him, and there was nothing they could do. Trying to shock him back to life wouldn’t work at this point. They were sorry.

I had fallen back to my knees at the news. Even though I already knew, my entire life began to crash around me. The only good thing in my life… The only person I ever loved—in my _entire_ life—was gone. Gone from my life. Forever.

I heard someone scream, yelling out in what sounded like pure pain and anguish. It took me a moment to realize it was my own voice. I slammed my fist into the ground, cursing loudly. I knew people were staring. Whether they were stares of pity or of confusion or of disgust—I didn’t fucking care. Marco was gone. I had nothing left. I just wanted him to be alive. I knew he was dead, I _knew_ it! But it didn’t seem real. He couldn’t be dead. Why did this happen? Why him of all people? Marco, who brought a smile to everyone’s face—why _Marco_?! The only reason I pulled myself out of bed in the mornings was because of Marco. Now there was nothing for me.

News spread around school pretty quickly. It was on the news. Someone had the nerve to take a picture of the scene. Even record it. Sick bastards… Thankfully, no footage was shown but you could see my back and Marco’s legs from the angle the photo was taken at. The entire school felt the loss, but even his closest friends couldn’t have felt the same pain I did. Most people knew we were dating. Everyone knew we were close. Nobody questioned why I was more unsociable than usual. Nobody tried to comfort me. Not even one of those, “Hey sorry for your loss,” things. Not that I cared. I didn’t need their pity, especially when I knew that none of them actually cared about me. It was Marco the school cared for. And honestly, who could blame them? He made our dull little high school a bit brighter. Even the teachers seemed more down without him.

One more week until graduation. How exciting.

* * *

 

My parents didn’t seem to notice how much more down I was without Marco. They knew he was my friend, but I never told them he was my boyfriend. I never even came out to them. I knew that that would be the only thing they would ever have a reaction to, and it wouldn’t be a good one.

My dad said that he’d “heard a kid from your school died. Before I proceeded to tell him that it was _Marco_ , my _best friend_ and my mom looked at me with _genuine_ fucking surprise and asked,

“You have friends?” Which just got me pissed so I stormed into my room, slamming the door as a show of just how pissed I was. Like I’d never done that before. They’re used to my childish acts of anger by now, I suppose.

* * *

 

The funeral was sad. Marco’s family was there and some of his good friends, but I didn’t know them and they didn’t know me. They only knew I was his boyfriend. They offered no words of consolation to me, and I didn’t expect them to.

Marco’s mom, Marie, was bawling. I stood next to her during the ceremony. I watched his father, Joseph, give his eulogy while trying to hold back tears. I watched his cousin Mina lay the watch she bought him for his graduation next to his casket. The casket was closed because of the damage done to his body. I couldn’t even see him one last time. Just remember his peaceful expression as he died in my arms.

Towards the end Marie gave me a hug and kissed my head. She thanked me for always being there for Marco and told me how happy he sounded every time he talked about me. Joseph gave my shoulder a firm squeeze.

“I know you did everything you could to save him,” he said. Both his parents had the same kind look that Marco had. His father was always a strong, respected man with a deep and firm voice. Hearing it so quiet, hearing it quivering so much… it was too much for me to take. “Thank you, Jean. I know this might be hard to hear, but you would have made a great son-in-law.” And I nod, giving his arm a light squeeze. He ruffles my hair and Marie gives me one last hug before I leave.

I made my way home, tears falling from my eyes. It was hard to breathe. So hard. Luckily my parents were out when I got home so I ran to my room, slamming the door shut and playing my music at full blast, crying into my pillow.

* * *

 

The school reverted back to its regular self by graduation. Of course there was a moment of silence for Marco Bodt, straight-A student whose life ended before his time. Then everyone got their diplomas. Smiling, showing their parents and families. My parents didn’t show up. Dad said he had more important things to do and Mom was too sick to come. Not that she would have come if she wasn’t. She didn’t care about this either. I don’t even think they know what college I’m going to!

I walked home from school and tossed my diploma to the side. My parents didn’t know anything about me, and they don’t care to, either. Well, if that’s the case then who cares, right? They don’t care what I do. At all.

If you couldn’t tell, I don’t have a very good relationship with my parents. Or any relationship with them, for that matter. Their relationship with _each other_ isn’t very good. Like I said earlier, the only reason they got married was because my mom got pregnant and like hell my grandma was going to let her get an abortion.

I wish my grandma was still alive. She actually gave a shit about me, from what I can remember. I was like, three, when she passed. Although I guess the reason my parents don’t want to take the time to know me is because I’ve never done one significant thing in my life to make them proud.

I’m a mediocre student with mediocre grades and anger issues. I once got suspended for two weeks for giving this kid a black eye, bloody nose and a fractured wrist. Sixth grade. He was an eighth grader, tried to come on to me so I kicked his ass and he told his mommy like the little bitch he was. My dad then proceeded to give me a talk about why I shouldn’t be such a little shit at school, it makes him look bad, like he didn’t raise me right.

Probably because he didn’t raise me at all, the fucker.

But honestly, how Marco put up with me, I have no clue. How I even managed to _get_ someone like Marco, I don’t fucking know but _shit_ do I miss it.

So now I’m here, two months into summer break and a month before I’m supposed to go to college, on a bridge where I’m about to end my life. It’s kind of scary, knowing I’m about to die, but I think I’ve lived long enough to realize that there is _literally_ nothing to live for. _Nothing_. I have no friends, my family hates me and Marco is dead. I’ve racked my brain for so long trying to think of something—just _one_ thing that would prevent me from killing myself—and nothing! The people from my school will probably say things like,

“Who’s Jean? Oh, Marco’s boyfriend? That’s sad, both of them dying like that.” And then continue on with their lives. I smile a bit. It’s actually quite pitiful, living such an insignificant life.

I’ve contemplated this option time and time again, continuously trying to think up a reason to not kill myself. I even asked my parents what they’d do if I died.

↓    ↓    ↓    ↓

“What would you do if I died?” I asked suddenly. It was dinnertime and the table, as usual, was silent. Until that question. My parents looked at me questioningly.

“Where’s this coming from?” my father asked without much interest. I shrugged.

“Just curious, I guess,” I mumbled.

“It’s not like it’d be much different around here,” my mom says, taking a bite out of her food.

“You’re always holed up in your room, anyways. It’d be a lot quieter without your music always playing, too,” my dad agrees.

“So what’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, clenching my fists under the table.

“It means that it wouldn’t make much of a difference,” my mother says with a cough. I grit my teeth. I’ve always hated my parents. My dad was a violent drunk and my mom… She’s just awful. I can’t count the amount of times I’ve heard her talking about how much she wished I wasn’t born.

“I’m gay,” I blurted out. They froze.

“ _What_ did you just say?” my mom demanded, narrowing her eyes.

“No son of mine’s gonna be a fag!” my dad growled, standing and slamming his fists on the table. I stood too, yelling,

“It’s not like you ever fucking thought of me as your son, anyways!” I could feel my fists just _aching_ to punch him in the jaw. Just once. Give him what he deserves. But I don’t I just sigh, frustrated. “Whatever. I have my answers, I’m going to my room.” And then I left, ignoring my dad’s demands for me to come back.

* * *

 

That was two weeks ago. I’m surprised they didn’t just kick me out. Not like it matters anymore, though. I’ll be out of their lives in just a moment.

I take a deep breath. I didn’t write a suicide note. I have nothing to say to my parents. I climb up onto the railing and look down. It’s about a 30 foot drop. I’m pretty sure that’s far enough. I take a deep breath.

Goodbye to my shitty life, this shitty world, and my shitty parents. Who knows? Maybe God will even feel sorry for me and I’ll get to see Marco again.

Then just as I’m about to jump, I hear the fucking loud ass honk. Scares the hell out of me and I fall backwards on my ass.

“What the fuck?” I growled, standing up.

“What the fuck, indeed!” I hear an unfamiliar voice. I turn around to see some guy running towards me. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

I blinked at him. “’What’?” I repeat. “What do you mean ‘what’? I think it’s pretty fuckin’ obvious.”

“Yeah, but _why_!”

“Wha—this has nothing to do with you,” I huff. “Get lost!”

“I don’t care if it’s got nothing to do with me!” the guy huffs. “If you jump off that, you’ll die!”

“No shit, Sherlock! What do you think I’m trying to do? Make tea?” Ugh, this was so annoying! “Look, kid, why not just run along, yeah? This is my choice.”

“Yeah, haha, fuck if I will!” he huffs, as if that’s the most ridiculous thing. Jean believes most people would had ignored him, at least. And those who would get out would probably just drive away after being told to do so. “I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t stop you.”

“Does that mean your only doing this out of obligation?” I practically spit.

“No! It means I want to help you!” he says.

“Yeah, well thanks, but no thanks,” I grit out. “Fuck off, will you?”

“No.”

“Ugh, what _ever_!” I huff, jumping back onto the railing. “Don’t think I have any intention of stopping just because you’re here.”

“Wait, don’t—!”

“ _Au revoir_!” I grunt, letting myself begin to fall, squeezing my eyes shut tight as I await the impact of the fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eren Jaeger: Master of Persuasion! Isn't he just so skilled? Very convincing argument. "You'll die if you jump off that." Simply magnificent. Totally.
> 
> Anyways, yeah! Hope that Marco part brought a few tears on! xD But, yeah! So this is an idea I've had since July and am finally putting into action! I can't promise an immediate update because I have quite a few fics to finish already, but I reallyyy wanted to get this posted! x3 So, yeah! Thanks for reading!
> 
> I hope you hate Jean's parents as much as I do! Hahahaha! Don't worry, things'll get better! :DDD Lots of love! xxx
> 
> Comments, Kudos, and Subscriptions are always appreciated!!! <3 
> 
> Look out for chapter two! :DDD


	2. Saved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eren takes Jean to his apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is pretty uneventful. I tried to look for openings to add more sad stuff but alas, there wasn't much I could do ;n; I hope this chapter is decent, at least. It's definitely not my best but I can't think of anything to write for any of my other fics, so voila! Enjoy! ^w^
> 
> PS - Just ignore the crappy chapter title. I couldn't think of anything better ;n;

“Au revoir!” I grunt, letting myself begin to fall, squeezing my eyes shut tight as I await the impact of the fall.

Except the impact didn’t come. Instead, I feel my shirt nearly chokin me. I force my eyes open to see that I’m just dangling there. Which is probably scarier than actually falling to my death. I jerk my head up abruptly to see the brunette guy hanging half off of the ledge with a tight hold on the back of my shirt.

“Y-you- what the fuck?!” I yell, afraid to struggle but also really tempted to sock him in the nose. “You’re crazy! You look like you’re about to fall off!”

He doesn’t answer. His eyes are shut, which worries me even more. Then suddenly I’m being yanked up like I way about as much as a five year old child and he tosses me onto the pavement not so gently. I grunt and sit up, glaring at him. He slides down and leans back against the railing of the ledge, pulling his knees up to his chest and breathing a long sigh of relief.

“What the hell did you do that for?” I demand, feeling angry, and I know tears are welding in my eyes. “I was so close…”

“Are you relieved?” he asks, not looking at me. He’s looking up at the sky, I guess, but his hair is covering his eyes. I raise an eyebrow.

“Relieved?”

“That I didn’t drop you,” he clarifies. “Is your heart beating really fast?”

I go to say no, but then I realize that it’s beating really fast and really hard. Enough to the point where I can hear it in my ears. I grab where my heart is tightly, trying to calm down. I didn’t even realized how worked up I’d gotten. Then the brunette stands and walks over to me, grabbing me by my wrist and pulling me up and onto my feet like nothing.

“If you had really wanted to die you would have struggled,” he says with a knowing tone. “You would have made me let go. But you didn’t. You stayed as still as you could because you knew if you didn’t you’d fall. You were scared.”

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!” I yell, trying to jerk my arm free. This guy was a lot stronger than he looked. “Let me go! What the hell are you—?”

“Do you ever shut up yourself?” the stranger huffs. Fuck, this guy was way stronger than he looked! And a complete asshole. He pulls me to his car. Not just a car, though. No, it was his fancy [mustang](http://www.mustangandfords.com/events/1402-top-ten-most-expensive-auction-mustangs/photo-01.html). Ugh, so he’s a rich guy. “Get in.”

“Hah? No way!” I yell, jerking my arm back. The guy sighs, obviously irritated with my stubbornness. “I don’t know you. What if you’re planning something…?”

“Yes, because I totally want to hurt you,” he rolls his eyes. “That’s exactly why I saved your life. That’s exactly why I pulled you up even though I’m fucking terrified of heights. Because I want to kill you myself. That makes complete. Fucking. Sense.”

I feel my face flush a little. It really didn't make any sense but… still, why the hell should I go with him?

“I don’t trust that you’ll just go home like, ‘oh well!’ and go on with life. I feel like if I drive away you’ll get right back on that ledge.”

“I wouldn’t…” I mutter. Well, I probably wouldn't. “But I definitely wouldn’t go back home, either. Fuck that.”

“Then just stay the night at my place,” he shrugs. I stare at him.

“I don’t even know your name,” I point out.

“Right, sorry,” he apologizes. “I’m Eren Jaeger, from Shiganshina High.”

“Shiganshina?” I ask, surprised. “What the hell are you doing all the way in Trost?”

“I was out visiting a friend,” the boy, Eren, explains. “Reiner Braun. You know him?”

“Know him? No. Know who he is? Yes. He was the captain of my school’s football team.”

“Yup, yup,” Eren nods. “Now get in the car.” He orders. I go to say no, but he’s giving me this hard stare that sort of freaks me out, and I wonder if it’s really a good idea, but I sigh and reluctantly slide into the passenger seat. “Anyways, Reiner’s a close friend of mine. Since we’re not going to the same college I decided to come visit.”

“Hmm,” I hum carelessly, staring out the window. I don’t really care. At all. About Reiner, nor anyone else at my school. Marco was the only one…

The car ride was silent and long, I guess. I fell asleep at some point. I woke up to someone shaking my shoulder and saying my name. I groaned, confused. I had sort of forgotten where I was.

“Jean!” the guy’s shaking me yells, smacking me in the back of my head.

“Ouch!” I yell out, jerking my head up, suddenly wide awake. “What the hell, man?!”

“We’re here,” he says. Oh. Right. It’s this, uh... Erin guy.

“Did you really find it necessary to hit me like that?”

“I’ve been trying to wake you up for three minutes straight, it was totally necessary.”

Ugh! This guy was such a shithead. “Whatever,” I mutter, unbuckling myself and getting out of the car. I look around. It was an apartment building. “You live alone?”

“Yeah,” he nods, leading me inside. “My parents let me move out on my eighteenth birthday. I’d been saving money myself, mind you. Part time jobs and such.”

“I didn’t say anything,” I huff, following him into the elevator.

“It showed on your face when you saw my car,” he says. “You looked really annoyed. Like you were thinking, 'Ugh, a rich kid,' or something.”

“Well, yeah,” I huff. “You don’t see many eighteen year olds driving a fucking mustang around, you know?”

“I’ll admit, it was a gift,” Erin says, the elevator stopping at almost the top floor. “Kind of. I was saving for it but my grandparents in Germany helped out a lot.”

“Yeah, okay, look Erin—”

“Eren,” he corrects me. I roll my eyes at the fact he was annoyed by such a slight mispronunciation.

“Okay, Eren,” I huff as he walks me to his apartment room. “As much as I’d love to hear about your wealthy, loving family, I really don’t give a shit.”

“Have you eaten?” Eren asks, ignoring my comment.

“What? No,” I shake my head. “Why would I eat something before dying? There’s no point.”

“Well, most people would probably like to have a last meal, no?” he shrugs, pushing the door open and letting me inside. “But you’re not dead. It’s midnight but I’m going to make you something to eat so sit on the couch and do something. I don’t care what.”

“You make no sense,” I grumble, kicking off my shoes, because that’s what he did, before following him to his living room. He handed me the controller for his big ass TV. When he moves to the kitchen area (which was basically just a regular kitchen, this apartment was huge), I decide to take a moment to look around. The couch was leather and large so I had a lot of room to move around. Not that I was going to move around. Then I look at his walls. They were covered in pictures. His family, his accomplishments, paintings…

Does he draw? I think to myself.

“Why yes, actually, I do,” Eren chuckles from the kitchen and I blink, confused for a moment, before realizing I spoke aloud instead of in my head.

“Oh… cool, I guess,” I say.

“What about you?”

“Huh?”

“You artsy?”

“No,” I shake my head. “I mean, I can draw, but it’s more like something I do only when I vent.”

“You should show me some time,” he says, and I could hear the smile in his voice. I’m not sure if that makes me feel better or pisses me off. Maybe both.

“Yeah, not gonna happen…” I mutter before going back to examining his apartment. Like I said, it was big. It looked more like a hotel room, honestly. I notice nothing else that catches my eye so I just turn on the TV.

Around twenty minutes later I’m nearly dozing off but Eren calls me to the kitchen, telling me he’s done cooking. I really didn’t feel like moving but I also didn’t feel like dealing with Eren’s bitching so I pull myself off the couch and walked to wear he was, plopping down in the chair the food was in front of. I really wish he hadn’t come along. I was so fucking close to ending this hell of a life.

Are you relieved? I remember Eren’s question briefly before pushing back to the back of my head.

Instead, I focused on the food, which smelled pretty good. He made me some chicken soup as if I were a sick person, which kind of pissed me off, but it had actual chicken in it and some other stuff I didn’t bother to try and pick out. My stomach grumbled loudly and man I didn’t realize how hungry I was.

He laughed a bit when my stomach growled. “Eat already,” he says, motioning to the plate. I sigh and reluctantly pick up my spoon, scooping up some of the hot broth and bringing it to my mouth.

“Is it good?” Eren asks.

“It’s fine,” I mumble. It was really good, actually. Better than my mom’s shitty food, that’s for sure. But I didn’t want to stay longer than I needed to. I’ll just eat this and head out.

“Stay the night,” Eren says again, taking a seat across from me.

“What? No thanks,” I shake my head.

“Stay,” Eren insists. “It’s late, you know? And I still don’t trust you’ll just go home.”

“Even if I do stay, how do you know I won’t just do it tomorrow?” I ask, glaring at him with narrow eyes.

“I won’t,” Eren shrugs. “But at least I can say I tried.”

He had a look in his eye that I can’t really describe, so I just scoffed and went back to eating.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Eren asks. I look up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Why you did it, I mean.”

“No,” I say firmly. Like hell I’m going to tell my problems to a stranger.

“Why not?” he pries, and I glare at him. “There’s got to be more than…”

“Than what?" I ask, voice cold. I already know what he's thinking. "Why not just say it? "There's got to be more than your boyfriend dying,’ right? Well, I’ll tell you now, there is. A lot more. But like fuck I’m going to talk to you about it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, getting unreasonably angry.

“That it’s fucking personal,” I snap. “So back off.”

He calms himself and sighs, nodding once before yawning. “I’m going to bed,” he says, taking off his shirt. I don’t say anything and just continue to eat slowly. “You can take the bed if you want.”

“Thanks but no thanks,” I mumble. “The couch is fine.”

Eren doesn’t try to convince me. He just nods again and goes to his room. I sigh before finishing the rest of my soup and rinsing the dish before sticking it in the dishwasher. I toss my jacket off and go to the couch, laying down and covering my eyes with my arm. I should just leave now. Leave and forget this ever happens. If he expects me to be grateful for this, then he’s wrong. Most people wouldn’t go to such an extent to save a person about to commit suicide. Ever.

But I decide to stay. Just for the night. Only because I don’t want to go home and have to look at my parents. I don’t want to be within the same radiance of them. Besides, trying to board a bus back to Trost and this hour would be stupid. I decide to just get comfortable and fall asleep.

When I woke up it was somehow still dark. I reached for my phone before remembering that I wasn’t in my bed, and it wasn’t on my nightstand, so I reach into my pocket and pull it out. 3:02 A.M. I never wake up this early… I sit up quietly and look around before seeing a small light behind me. I look over my shoulder and see Eren sitting at the counter in the kitchen, using the light of his phone to read a book. I pondered on why he was awake for only a second before deciding it was none of my business, nor did I want it to be, so I just go back to sleep.

I wake up again at 5:47 A.M. and groan. Why am I continuously wake up like this? I wonder if it has to do with the slight noise I’m hearing coming from the kitchen again. I will admit I’m a hell of a light sleeper. I sit up and look again. Eren is still there, still reading whatever dumb book it is he’s reading.

“Eren, what the fuck,” I ask, squinting through the darkness. He jumps a bit before closing the book.

“Oh, hi,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Did I, uh, wake you?”

“Yeah.”

“Sorry,” he sighs. “I tend to wake up early, ha-ha.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” I say. “Three in the morning is pretty early.”

“Wha—you were awake then, too?”

“You woke me,” I mutter.

“Sorry,” he apologizes again. “I’ll go to bed now.”

I don’t say anything but lay back down as I hear his footsteps distance and then a door closing. I sigh and just close my eyes, falling back into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it was crappy but whatever. Hopefully I'll be able to make things more interesting/angsty/dramatic in the next chapter ^w^Thank you for reading! <3 Look out for chapter three! :D
> 
> PS - I didn't proofread this due to extreme laziness! If you see any major mistakes- PLEASE, I beg of you, let me know! Because at some point I am going to look over this chapter and go "WOW I'm an idiot," lmao. So pleaseee. Thank you and have a good night/morning!
> 
> PPS - I'm also posting this why I'm still in school. Haha.

**Author's Note:**

> I need a better title for this, haha.


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